


Answers

by Esti7310



Series: Dante's POV [4]
Category: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe - Benjamin Alire Sáenz
Genre: M/M, Re-written scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-08
Updated: 2018-03-08
Packaged: 2019-03-28 11:19:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,401
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13902927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Esti7310/pseuds/Esti7310
Summary: Dante is struggling to keep up this "friends" thing, and Ari is being weird. (Last chapter rewritten from Dante's perspective)





	Answers

Ari’s gone silent again. Not too unusual, especially this summer. Sometimes he calls and wants to hang out as soon as we can, and sometimes two or three days will go by when I don’t hear from him. And sometimes, I don’t really want to hear from him. I’m caught in this weird place, torn between wanting to spend time with him and knowing I shouldn’t. Because it gets my hopes up. Because I fall for him all over again whenever I see him smile. Because we both know it’s not ever going to be anything else besides friends. 

Still, though. He beat that guy up pretty bad after he saw me in the hospital. I’d never seen him look so angry. He’s not usually too happy, but he’s never been all that angry, either. Not really. His mood was like a steady drizzle. 

That day, he was a storm. Lightning and thunder and raging winds. I was still wrapping my head around the fact that Ari – quiet, poetry-reading, stargazing Ari – had beaten up a guy. 

That’s a lot to do for a friend. 

My mom had said that on the way home from the hospital, making eye contact with me in the rearview mirror. “He did more than most friends would.”

“Yeah, mom. I guess he did.”

“He’s a nice boy,” said my dad. 

“Even when he beats people up?” I asked. 

“He did it because he loves you,” my mom said softly. 

I stared intently out the window. “I don’t think so.” I could tell they were sharing one of their parent glances, having a whole conversation in their language of eye contact.

“Well,” said my father finally, “he definitely cares.”

He has a really odd way of showing it. We talked on the phone about Daniel on Monday, and I didn’t call Tuesday, but I’ve called every day since, and now I haven’t seen him in a week. It makes me mad, too. We’re best friends. We’re supposed to talk. Why is he acting so damn jealous of Daniel if he’s so sure he doesn’t want me as more than a friend?

I’m not too sure I can be friends with him. I’d told him at the beginning of the summer that not being able to kiss him would be like walking on hot coals. I’d been exaggerating just a little, but more and more, that’s what it feels like. Even more so now that we’ve actually kissed and I have that memory at the back of my mind, constantly teasing me with what I can’t have. 

So I’m not too happy to hear from him when he calls out of the blue, pretending nothing’s wrong. 

“Dante?” 

“I’ve been calling you every day for the past five days.”

“I have the flu,” he deadpans. 

“Bad joke. Screw you, Ari.”

“Why are you so mad?”

“Why are  _ you  _ so mad?”

“I’m not mad anymore,” he says. I think he sounds honest.

“So maybe it’s my turn to be mad.”

“Okay, that’s fair,” he says. “How’s Daniel?”

“You’re a piece of crap, Ari.”

“No, Daniel’s a piece of crap.”

“He doesn’t like you.”

“I don’t like him either,” he says. As if I didn’t know. “So, is he like your new best friend?”

“Not even close.” I’m telling the truth. 

“You guys been kissing?”

“What’s it to you?”

“Just asking.”

“I don’t want to kiss him,” I say. Still telling the truth. “He’s nothing.”

“So what happened?”

“He’s a self-involved, conceited, piece of shit,” I say, and it feels sort of good to just rant about him. “And he’s not even smart. And my mother doesn’t like him.”

“What does Sam think of him?”

“Dad doesn’t count, he likes everybody.”

And then Ari’s laughing, and my heart jumps because I finally made him laugh again. 

“Don’t laugh,” I say anyway. “Why were you mad?”

“We can talk about it.”

I frown at the phone, wondering if I have the wrong number and I’m talking to someone else who sounds exactly like Aristotle Mendoza. Ari, wanting to talk about something?

“Yeah, like you’re so good at that,” I say. 

“Give me a break, Dante.”

“Okay.”

“Okay. So what are you doing tonight?”

“Our parents are going bowling.”

“They are?”

“They talk a lot.”

“They do?”

“Don’t you know anything?” I tease. 

“I guess I’m a little aloof sometimes.”

“A little?”

“I’m trying here, Dante.”

“Say you’re sorry,” I say finally. I’m half joking. “I don’t like people who don’t know how to say they’re sorry.”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“Okay,” I say, grinning. “They want us to go along.”

“Bowling?”

“It could be fun,” I say. “Night out with the family?”

He sighs. “Sure, I guess. We haven’t hung out in a while.”

“I know, Ari.”

 

Ari seems off today. He smiles easily at me when I get in the truck, his eyes lingering on me before he pulls out of the driveway. We joke about bowling, about our parents. The whole time, Ari keeps glancing over at me. He’s smiling and laughing and  _ talking.  _

“You’re different,” I say as we roll into the parking lot. 

“How?”

“I don’t know. You’re acting different.”

“Weird?”

“Yeah, weird,” I say, and then I realize that’s the sort of thing that would make Ari mad. “In a good way.”

“Good,” he says, “I’ve always wanted to be weird in a good way.”

“I thought you wanted to be just like everyone else,” I say as we head inside.

“Dante, you’re the most interesting person I know, and you’re not just like everyone else.”

“In a good way?”

“In a really good way.”

“But not interesting enough to pick up the phone for once in five days?” I can’t help it. Really, what kind of guy doesn’t talk to you and then suddenly shows up acting like your best friend?

Ari laughs. He holds the door open for me, and I give him a look while I walk in. 

“I’m sorry, Dante. I guess I wasn’t in the mood for interesting.”

“But you are now?”

“I really am.”

I follow him over to where our parents have claimed a lane and a table, studying his face. Something is really, really weird with him today. 

Lily, Ari’s mom, comes to sit by me while Ari goes to get us sodas. 

“How are you?” she asks me. 

“I’m okay.”

“Feeling better?”

“Everything’s healing.”

“How’s Ari doing?” she asks. 

“You’re his mother,” I joke, “shouldn’t I be asking you?”

She smiles. “He talks more to you. Talks for real.”

“He doesn’t talk to me all that much.”

“Did he talk today?” she asks, studying my face like she’s looking for a report of our conversation. 

“Uh, a little. We talked about bowling. We talked about you guys.”

Ari comes back with a Coke for me and 7-up for himself. He glances between me and his mother. 

“Dante was telling me that you two were talking,” she says.

“We’re always talking.”

“What about?”

“Boring stuff,” says Ari, smiling at me. I grin back. 

“What kind of boring stuff?” she asks, raising her eyebrows at Ari. 

“Bowling. Parents.” That makes me laugh. “It’s your turn, mom,” he says, handing her a ball. 

Ari’s a pretty good bowler. I’m okay. Mostly I’m thinking about him. Us. We keep looking at each other and laughing. My heart pounds whenever our hands brush or our eyes meet. And I remind myself, over and over, that we’re  _ friends.  _ Even if he looks at me like there’s more. Even if he acts like there’s more.

I can’t keep up this endless loop of hope and heartbreak forever. 

Ari offers to drive me home, so I tell my parents I might be out for a while longer and follow him to his truck. He’s still smiling as we drive away.

“That was actually fun,” he says.

“It was okay.”

“You’re not bad.”

“You’re our star bowler, though.” 

He grins and pushes his long hair back. “My hidden talent,” he says. 

“Guess so.”

“Where are we going?” 

“My favorite hangout.” 

“It’s late.”

“You tired?”

“Sort of.” Just tired of this. 

“It’s just ten o’clock. Get up early, do you?”

“Wiseass.”

“Unless you want to just go home.”

“No.” 

“Okay.”

I watch Ari drive. He taps his fingers against the steering wheel, and the sound starts driving me crazy. I flip through Ari’s music, looking for something to put on, but nothing feels right. So we just sit until Ari parks the truck. 

He takes a deep, sort of shaky breath. I watch him tap tap tap the wheel, avoiding my eyes and staring out at the desert. I wait for him to talk. 

“I love it here,” he says finally. 

He’s so beautiful in the stars and the moonlight. I hate that that’s all I can think about. 

He reaches up and touches the tennis shoes hanging from the rearview mirror that I gave him. “I love these things.”

“You love a lot of things, don’t you?”  _ But not me.  _

“You sound mad. I thought you weren’t mad anymore.”

“I think I am mad,” I say. More sad, but I don’t want Ari to know that.

“I’m sorry. I said I was sorry.”

I look at his beautiful eyes, then back out at the dark desert. “I can’t do this, Ari.”

“Can’t do what?” God, he’s impossible sometimes.

“This whole friend thing. I can’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“I have to explain it to you?”

Ari takes a breath like he’s going to say something, and he glances at my lips, and that’s the last I can take. I get out of the truck and slam the door, leaning on the side and trying to breathe deeply. Ari’s out a second later, hurrying over to me. 

“Hey,” he says, gently touching my shoulder.

I give him a little shove back. “I don’t like it when you touch me.”

He looks so sorry, and it makes me crumble. I want to reach out and pull him into my arms. He’d probably push me away and it would just make everything worse, so I don’t.

“Dante?” he says finally. 

“What?” I say, putting as much frustration and anger into the one word as I can.

“Don’t be mad.”

“I don’t know what to do, Ari.”

“Remember that time you kissed me?”

“Yeah.” 

“Remember I said it didn’t work for me?”

I hate him now, just for a fleeting moment. “Why are you bringing this up? I remember. I remember. Dammit to hell, Ari, did you think I’d forgotten?”

“I’ve never seen you this mad.”

“I don’t want to talk about that, Ari. It just makes me feel bad.”

“What did I say when you kissed me?” he asks. I hate him. 

“You said it didn’t work for you,” I spit, hoping he’s hurting as much as I am.

“I lied.”

I look at him, not sure why he would joke about this. 

“Don’t play with me, Ari.”

“I’m not.”

And then he carefully takes my shoulders again, and I don’t push him back because I’m too surprised, too confused. 

“You said I wasn’t scared of anything,” he says, not breaking eye contact. “That’s not true.  _ You.  _ That’s what I’m afraid of. I’m afraid of you, Dante.” 

I glare at him, wondering what he has to be afraid of, wondering what about me could possibly make him afraid.

And then he says, “Try it again. Kiss me.”

“No,” I say, because it can’t be true. 

“Kiss me.”

“No,” I say, because I need more proof than this. “ _ You  _ kiss  _ me. _ ”

He moves a hand from my shoulder to the back of my neck. I look at him. 

And then he tilts his chin up and his eyes flutter closed and his lips are on mine. 

I don’t think. I just lean in and kiss him back, carefully and slowly, and he keeps kissing me. He doesn’t pull away this time. He pulls me closer. He keeps kissing me.

I don’t know who pulls back or how long it lasts, but at some point, I can breathe again and I can see Ari and the stars and the desert stretching in every direction, interrupted only by us and the truck. 

“I’m confused,” I whisper. He laughs. 

“I’m not.”

“I didn’t think you wanted any of this.”

“Me neither. For a while.”

“What changed?”

“I just... realized.”

“Realized what?”

“You were right,” he says, “not kissing you is like walking on hot coals.” So I kiss him again. He kisses me back. Again. 

We lie in the back of the truck and look at the stars and laugh and talk. Our hands are clasped together. His head is on my shoulder and he hasn’t stopped smiling since we kissed. I turn to kiss him again just to see him smile. 

“I wish it was raining,” I whisper after a while. 

“I don’t need the rain. I need you.”

I squeeze his hand. He squeezes back. 

“What do you want to do, Dante?” he asks. 

“Look at the stars. Drive. Swim. Kiss you.”

“I mean later. When we go back.”

“Let’s just stay out here forever.”

“Are you going to tell your parents?”

“Our parents are gonna know whether we tell them or not.”

Ari lets out a soft breath. “I guess so.”

“Does that bother you?”

“Dante, a meteor could hit the earth right now and I don’t think I’d be bothered.”

“But that would mean less time to spend with me.”

“You know what I mean.”

“Shitty metaphor,” I say. “But yeah. I know.”

He kisses me again, long and slow, and I kiss back. It still doesn’t feel real. 

It’s well past midnight when we finally get back into the truck. He holds my hand as we speed down the starlit highway, back towards reality and questioning parents and brothers we don’t know. 

“Dante?” he says softly, looking at me. 

“Yes?”

“I’m sorry I was such an asshole.”

I laugh. “You’ve made up for it.”

He smiles a little. “All I had to do was kiss you?”

I smile back. “All you had to do was be honest.”

He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses me softly, and in that moment, I don't believe my luck. With Ari, I think I could drive forever – to the edge of the desert, the edge of Texas, the edge of the universe. 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you liked this one!! It was super fun to write but I wanted to get it as perfect as I could. Comments/feedback make me happy!
> 
> Anyway, I've been off of this for like six months (life got crazy), but I'm getting back into writing and I'm definitely going to post more in this series. I'm working on one with Dante and Daniel right now and I have more that I've started. Thanks for reading!!!


End file.
